Truth or Dare
by lisa.ryanz1oh1
Summary: One should never judge a book by it's cover. Nor should one judge a student of Hogwarts by their House. Follow along as two famous antagonists write themselves a new story within the cover of old jackets.


**Truth or Dare: Are We Playing?**

I suppose anyone who's ever written anything in the 'Harry Potter' universe, has to write something like this at some point of time. This one is an old story that I thought I'd lost, but now that I've found it, maybe it's time to post it on this site. I do believe it is very much a cliché plot, and perhaps much overdone, but this is my take on it and I'd like to share it with everyone.

So, pertinent details: The story is somewhat different from 6th year onward, along with a few minor empowering changes for Harry during the previous summer. We'll go with AU. It's supposed to be a one-shot, but if you like it and have any ideas, then I might just take it forward.

Hope you like it. Enjoy!

* * *

"I dare you to kiss Hermione Granger."

"WHAT!?"

It was a Saturday afternoon on the eve of Halloween, and having more or less completed all our assigned homework, my friends and I were indulging in the rather pedestrian game of 'Truth or Dare' out of absolute boredom. Since our collective decision to turn away from the Dark Lord and our parents, and support the side that believed in living in dignity over cowering at the robe-hems of a half-blood pretender, most of the Slytherin 6th years had become a bunch of outcasts. Both within the House of Slytherin and within Hogwarts in general. No-one really understood what to do with us after Dumbledore had personally vouched for us in the privacy of the Great Hall and my godfather, Professor and Potions Master Severus Snape, had taken us under his protection.

So, in fact, nothing much had really changed other than our own perception of where exactly we stood in the war. I suppose in the long run, that alone would make all the difference for us.

"And she has to acknowledge it to us, at least. You don't have to kiss her in public."

I could only remain silent in the face of this challenge, my head still befuddled with several shots of Ogden's Finest.

Nott, who had issued this challenge, crowed. "Afraid, Draco? Never thought I'd see the day!"

Afraid. Ha! Draco smirked. "I never said I wouldn't do it." He pushed himself out of the plush depths of the sofa and got to his feet. "See you all later. I have a bookworm to find."

* * *

I could feel his sharp, intense gaze boring into me. He'd been sitting at the only other table in my remote corner of the Library, watching me without a word. If I hadn't seen him come in, I would never have known he was even there. It had been 3 hours since he'd settled himself there and all he'd done in that time was stare at me.

When my gaze skittered over the page I'd been reading on the Theories of Transformation Energies for the 5th time without taking anything in, I'd finally had enough.

* * *

Ever since I'd seen the Dark Lord for myself, I'd realized that my father, once proud and unbending, the peak of my childish ladder of personal achievement, was no more than a cowed, grovelling servant to a man who ruled with pain and paid loyalty in blood. Of course, this change took place largely after I observed one of the Death Eater training sessions that were being conducted in my _home_ over the summer vacations.

The victim this time, was my mother, shrieking in her own blood, on the pure white marble floors of Malfoy Manor.

A warning for my father, to ensure his continued good behavior for the 'cause'.

I was sick the whole week. Ample time to spend thinking about one's choices. And I finally admitted to myself that I was glad to have a choice. That perhaps the do-gooder 'Light' club may actually have something worthwhile to its name. Inevitably, of course, this just brought my thoughts circling right around to the Gryffindor Golden Trio.

My godfather had once commented that I was guitly of behaving like a Gryffindor every time I went up against the Golden Trio. Rather like incessantly waving a red flag before an enraged bull, he'd said. Something about some inane Muggle sport. But it made me think about just how much I'd wanted Harry Potter to be my friend, and most importantly, why.

Of course, thanks to my 'training' to be a pureblood Malfoy heir, that plan fizzled out faster than a damp Fillibuster firework because of several extraneous circumstances. Odd then, how forgiving Potter had been ever since I defected from Death Eater camp. That all I'd needed to be eligible for his tentative friendship – to be given a chance at all – was to completely overthrow my outlook on life and stare reality in the face.

And now here I was, a scant few months later, watching the only female member of the Golden Trio stalking towards me, wearing a small frown. True to her straightforward nature, she got right to the point.

"What are you doing, Malfoy?"

I'd known I would find her in the Library, sitting at the table in the far corner she had appropriated as her own, way back in our first year. It was almost always covered in a mess of parchment, books, quills and ink, the table drowning under their volume. I smirked at her acknowledgement even as I felt my heart thump louder in my ears. Hermione Granger and Harry Potter – the only two Gryffindors who could affect me in this manner. For completely different reasons. I realized she was waiting for an answer.

I smirked at her, leaning my elbows on the table and folding my hands under my chin. "Why Granger? Is it a crime to study in the Library?"

"Not at all, Malfoy. Except that you seem to have neither notes nor books and you've been staring at me all this time. I know I'm a 'know-it-all' - you've certainly reminded me often enough - but I doubt anything is written on my face or even the back of my head."

"Ah. But you see Granger, I have been 'studying' you. No mere book would enable me to do that."

Her eyes widened in surprise, but just as quickly narrowed in suspicion. "And why exactly have you been 'studying' me, Malfoy?"

She always was the best of the Golden Trio. Excellent emotional control and brilliant focus. She could stay on target with single-minded tenacity even while taking in new information. She was a worthy opponent, always had been. Especially now that I could see clearly without the haze of blood politics obscuring my senses. I decided to go with the truth.

"I was wondering how to talk to you, actually, Granger."

She gasped, surprised, but braced one hand on a cocked hip, confidence radiating from her slim frame. "And why would you want to talk to me, Malfoy? Is the entire school day not enough for you, that you must find the time to disturb me even now?"

Merlin help me, but she looked beautiful when she was ticked. The one woman who didn't look at me like I was Merlin's gift to women; who didn't want me for either my looks or my money; who repeatedly trounced me academically; who hated my guts for the hypocritical, snobbish arse I was; who had physically accosted me and broken my nose to defend her friends. This was the only woman who could react to me so heatedly, who could ever be my equal in any way. It made me suddenly sad that I could never even befriend her.

I hitched a fake smile on my face. "My dear Granger. How can I disturb you when I haven't said a single word until you chose to notice me?"

"Don't play word games with me, Malfoy. You've been sitting there for 3 hours, doing nothing more significant than trying to bore holes into my head." She tossed her think mane back over her shoulder. "If you'd wanted to talk to me, you could have said something sooner. Nothing's ever stopped you before. So why the consideration now?"

Though her spine was straight, her tone was weary, and her brown eyes held the shadows of past fights that I had put there. Right alongside that indefatigable spirit that meant that she would never give up. As much as I wished I could ignore the wave of regret that swept through me, weakness was something I could not show. I pushed one hand through my hair, looking up at her from under my lashes.

"Granger, don't tell me that my devilish good looks have finally got to you. The Malfoy charm is impossible to resist after all. I just knew that sooner or later you would have to come to me, and save me the effort of having to approach you."

She glared at me, as I knew she would. Then she flicked her wand over her shoulder; I hadn't even seen her draw it. All of her work packed itself neatly into her bag, which itself floated over to hover beside her. All the while she never took her eyes off me. Plucking her bag out of the air and shifting it onto her shoulder, she took two strides to place herself right before me and bent slightly to poke one ink-stained forefinger into my chest.

"You, Draco Malfoy, have always been an arse and I think you're too used to being an arse to be able to be comfortable being anything else. Even now that you've changed." Straightening, she continued, "So, if you want to talk to me, I'm willing to listen. But don't ever assume you're ever going to charm me. If I can withstand the Black charm, the Malfoy charm has nothing on it."

With two steps she was past my table and on her way to the Library doors. Her voice floated back to me. "Think about it, Malfoy. You know where to find me if you want a chat."

And with that she was out the door and gone.

Had anyone been watching, they would have seen Draco gaping after her like a complete loon, then seem to shake himself, his lips quirking at the corners, before he all but bounded after the brunette witch.

Seeing as it was almost time for dinner, Draco stepped out of the Library and turned toward Gryffindor tower, thinking that she may have gone up there to leave her bag before heading down to the Great Hall. But he'd only gone halfway when he heard someone shouting. Cracking a Disillusionment Charm over himself, he pressed himself against the wall and craned his neck around the corner.

There, standing before the Gryffindor guardian portrait of the Fat Lady was the Golden Trio. They didn't seem to be shining too bright at the moment. He wasn't close enough to actually hear what was going on, but that may have been because one of them had thought to put up an area wide Silencing Charm. Interestingly though, it was Harry shouting at a furious Weasley while Hermione stood leaning against the wall, swinging her wand between two fingers and looking quite… bored.

As things were, Draco knew that he probably wouldn't have any luck with spying on these three. They were smart, powerful and careful, more than his godfather gave them credit for. It would serve him no purpose to stand invisible in a Gryffindor corridor, waiting for them to come down to dinner. It would be even worse to be caught lurking here. So he carefully pulled back and made his way to the third floor before ducking into an alcove and removing the Disillusionment Charm. One quick _Homenum Revilio_ and he stepped out with his confident swagger, making his way down to the Great Hall, just in time to slide into his seat with the rest of his friends without being noticed.

The Golden Trio never came down.

"Well then," called Nott from two places over, "had any luck with that task, Draco?"

The entire 6th year was listening attentively, if not covertly watching his every move, and the young Malfoy heir knew better than to leave himself open to that sort of scrutiny. They may have turned to the Light, but they were Slytherins through and through, and would never unlearn how to keep an advantage over someone else. Knowledge would always mean Power, and one never allowed anyone to hold power over oneself.

So he changed nothing in his manner except to flick his eyes sharply at the speaker. "All good things come to those who wait… patiently, Nott."

Around him Pansy, Blaise and Tracy snickered into their pudding. Even Daphne looked amused. Nott went red at the mild rebuke, but recovered sooner than Draco would have liked with his next remark.

"If you're waiting, Malfoy, maybe you haven't caught the witch yet. It's been half the day. Your reputable charm not working on the Gryffindor Princess?"

Before I could do more than open my mouth, a familiar voice replied, "I think I have enough charm for the both of us."

I swore as hard mentally as my heart thumped in my chest. I was sure everyone could hear it beating like a drum. Instead, I swallowed what air I could and turned to face the owner of that voice, leaning back against my House's table with as honest a smile as I could manage.

"Hello, Princess."

Hermione Granger stood before me wearing a set of casual open robes over her school uniform; her brown mane tamed and open, tumbling down her shoulders; her red and gold tie slightly askew, the first button of her shirt opened to reveal her slender neck; the short skirt showing off her toned legs. Distractedly I wondered why I couldn't see where she kept her wand, but that thought was chased away when she bent towards me, bringing her eyes to my level. I felt a heavy sense of déjà vu.

Her right hand rose to finger my silk Slytherin tie and she lifted her eyes to mine. Her brown eyes were flecked with hazel. Her voice was husky when she spoke. "I thought I told you where to find me, Malfoy, and I didn't mean the Great Hall."

I was conscious of a hush, the deep silence that had invaded and conquered the loud and jovial frivolity of the Great Hall. I knew as surely as my name was Draco Abraxas Malfoy, that the eyes of every being, human or ghost, was focused on our tableau at the Slytherin table. And I also knew that I cared nothing for any of them and could only stare at the woman before me.

Hermione stepped forward then, nudging my legs apart with her knees as she stood between them without breaking our gaze. I could feel the warmth of those chocolate eyes, like the comfort of hot chocolate and blazing fireplaces, at once sating me and driving away the cold. For once I was helpless under that onslaught and I never knew what had happened until I felt the press of warm lips against mine and the tug of a small hand in my hair.

Heated sparks flashed through me and reality swam back into focus even as my mind struggled to understand how it had come to this. The Gryffindor Princess, Hermione Granger was standing at the Slytherin table and kissing me! But as this realization passed in a second, I raised one hand to cup her neck and pulled her face firmly to mine, moving our lips together, deepening our kiss.

Then there was a roar. Even in my blissful haze I could hear people shouting. Filled with an incredible, deep regret to have to break away from the woman before me, I tucked her hair behind her ear and swept a thumb gently over her cheek before I released her. She sighed and her warm breath rushed along my skin before she opened her eyes and looked unerringly straight into mine.

And then, with her cheeks flushed and lips red and eyes filled with something I didn't understand, she smiled at me, pressed a folded piece of parchment into my hand, and turned away. Walking tall with her head held high, she approached the Gryffindor table, where she smiled at Harry Potter, pecked him on the cheek and left the Great Hall with an apple in her hand.


End file.
